


Better than Sex

by jaicubed



Category: Youtubers
Genre: Camping, Fishing, Fluff, M/M, Road Trips, Tent Sex, heath quits smoking, zeath - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-18 06:56:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11286024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaicubed/pseuds/jaicubed
Summary: Heath attempts to quit smoking cold turkey on a five-day camping trip with Zane in Sequoia National Park.





	1. Chapter 1

At 4:00am on a Friday morning in late September, Zane Hijazi faced one of the biggest hurdles of his young life. 

“Baby, wake up.”

Snoring.

“Heath, we have to go. Wake up.” Zane shook Heath’s shoulder gently. 

Snoring.

Zane sighed. Moonlight spilled into Heath’s bedroom, illuminating the sleeping man’s tousled hair and week-old beard. He was out cold.

Zane knew Heath very well. He knew Heath was a man who would book a flight the day before he meant to leave, and not start packing until an hour and a half before take-off. It was why Zane had insisted they pack the truck the night before, and why Zane had made Heath sleep in his clothes. 

The rest of the house was asleep. He couldn’t yell or blare any music. And with the days ahead, he didn’t want to start off on a bad foot by shaking Heath awake until his head spun. Heath was already in for a bad enough time.

Zane sat on the edge of the bed. His instinct was to just crawl under the covers and join Heath in blissful unconsciousness, but he knew he couldn’t. This trip was important. 

He shook Heath’s shoulder a bit more aggressively. “Baby, wake up,” he said softly, right into Heath’s ear. Another shake.

At 4:13am, Heath Hussar’s eyes opened. Slowly.

“What the fuck you want,” Heath growled, wrapping his blanket tightly around himself. 

“It’s time to head out. We have to beat the traffic out of LA,” Zane replied, standing up. He ripped the blanket out of Heath’s hold and smacked him on the ass. “Come on, you can sleep in the car. Time to go.”

At 4:44am, Heath smoked his last cigarette of his last pack. He crushed it into the concrete curb with the toe of his boot. He stared at it.

“C’mon, baby,” Zane said gently, ushering Heath into the passenger seat.  
At 5:00am, an hour behind schedule, Zane and Heath were on their way out of Los Angeles. The traffic was already bad. He glanced over at Heath, wrapped up again in his blanket, his head resting on the pillow smashed against the passenger door window. He was snoring again.

Zane’s stomach was churning. He was excited, of course, because it had been a long time since they had gone camping or fishing, and they had a cooler ready to be filled with beer and snacks. He didn’t think too hard about the fact that they would be alone for five days, uninterrupted, because it was all still sort of new, and it was all still sort of weird- but he let himself enjoy the rush of nervous anticipation that ran from his head to his cock anyway. This trip could be so good.

Or bad. His excitement turned to dread when he thought about waking up Heath in a few hours. They’d planned to stop for breakfast in Bakersfield. Maybe have a “it’s too fuckin’ early for this” pre-camping Coffee Talk to include in next week’s vlog and load up on some supplies to fill the cooler.

He imagined how that would go. Going through the drive-thru at Dunkin’ Donuts. Getting coffee and fattening breakfast sandwiches. Wolfing them down. Taking that first sip of coffee. Heath reaching into the pocket of his hoodie for a cigarette, because what was better than the first cigarette of the day with the first coffee of the day?

But there would be no cigarettes in Heath’s hoodie pocket. Because Heath Hussar was quitting smoking cold turkey, and Zane was the wall between Heath and failure.

He imagined the ensuing meltdown. Heath had the willpower of a five-year-old. And how could Zane resist? How could he go into Wal-Mart for beer and hot dogs and not get a pack of Marlboros, like they did every other time?

At 7:15am, Zane pulled into the parking lot of a Bakersfield Wal-Mart. At 8:15am, Heath woke up on CA-65 with the sun shining brightly through the windshield.

And he was pissed.


	2. Chapter 2

_They were in their favorite weed-smoking spot, on the back road by the hiking trail. The sun was setting. And Zane’s tongue was in Heath’s mouth._

_This was not the first time that Heath had hooked up with someone in the front seat of his truck. Except usually, he was the one laid out, seat half way back, with someone straddling his lap._

_He always thought that he liked to be in control, in these situations. The one to grab the hips, bite the lips, flip ‘em over. But now, with Zane’s hand firm but gentle on his back and neck, Zane’s lips and teeth sucking and biting those spots behind his ears and on his throat, Zane’s thighs strong underneath him, spreading him wider, getting more of that friction…_

_Moments later, Zane, who had mediocre coordination on his best day, had managed to put the seat all the way back, gravity pressing them together the entire lengths of their bodies, and to slip his hands under Heath’s shirt, his nails scratching the base of his spine._

_Zane in control was really doing it for him._

_“Mmm, baby,” Zane growled, taking a handful of Heath’s ass and squeezing. “Baby…baby…”_

“BABY!” Zane shouted, shaking Heath’s shoulder. “Your phone’s ringing.”

Heath jolted awake. Momentarily blinded by the sun, and unable to remember where he was or why the fuck someone had woken him up in the middle of that dream, he didn’t get to the phone in time.

After several seconds of rapid blinking, he was finally able to see. He groaned and dug around in his pocket (after fighting with the blanket wrapped around him) and found his phone. A missed call.

“Who was it?” Zane asked, glancing over at him.

“Matt.” Heath shoved the phone back in his pocket and started to dig in his other pocket.

“Not gonna call him back?” Zane asked, his lips quirking a bit at the corner. He knew Heath could barely handle _him_ in the morning, let alone Matt, who seemed to operate at his highest level of perkiness one hundred percent of the time.

“Fuck no,” Heath grumbled, giving up on his other pocket before trying the front of his hoodie. He growled in frustration and threw off his seat belt, turning around in his seat to grab his backpack and start rummaging.

“What are you looking for?” Zane asked. “Get back in your seat. I’m not gonna have your fat ass go through this windshield.”

“My cigarettes. Where the fuck are my cigarettes?!”

Heath threw his backpack down against the floor of the truck before ripping open the glove box.

“Um,” Zane said, wincing as Heath rifled aggressively through the glove box before freezing.

Zane watched the flicker of emotions go over Heath’s face. Anger. Realization. Dread. 

Heath calmly closed the glove box and leaned against the window. 

“There are no cigarettes,” Heath said, his voice low.

“No,” Zane agreed, tentatively. 

Heath nodded. Zane had never seen him look so…sad. He had been prepared for fits of withdrawal anger, but this was worse. He was going to have to deal with this for five more days?

Heath’s eyes flicked to the clock on the dash. Perplexed, he looked out the window, his eyes narrowing as they passed another CA-65 sign.

“Zane…where are we?” Heath asked, retrieving his phone from his pocket. Zane didn’t answer.

“The GPS says we just passed Porterville,” Heath said, and Zane could see his jaw twitch. “We’re an hour away from the park.”

Zane still didn’t say anything. He had been gearing up for this blow-out, and he was ready, but he damn sure didn’t want to talk before he had to.

“You passed Bakersfield. Where we had planned on eating breakfast. And getting supplies. What the fuck, Zane.”

Zane sighed. “I _did_ stop in Bakersfield, and I _did_ get supplies.”

“And you didn’t wake me up.”

“No.”

“Why the fuck not?” Heath was getting pissed. A pissed Heath was not a nice car companion.

Zane thought about replying, “Because you looked so cute and cozy all snuggled up in your blanket,” but had a feeling that Heath wasn’t really in the mood for his half-assed attempts at flirting.

“Temptation, Heath. Look at how you just freaked out about the cigs. How was I going to stop a grown-ass man from running into one of the billion convenience stores around there and buying a pack, or thirty? It was easier…don’t worry, I still got coffee. Twenty bottles of our Dunkin’ bottled shit.”

“Do you think my self-control is that fucking weak? I’m not a kid,” Heath fumed. “You’re a fucking asshole, and we’re getting off at the next exit.”

“No, we’re not. I got everything we need for the next five days,” Zane replied firmly. “I know this sucks for you, but—“

“You don’t know shit!” Heath shot back. “Next exit.”

“No.” Zane gripped the steering wheel tighter.

“What if I’ve got to take a piss? You can’t keep me hostage in here.”

“You can hold it. We’re almost there.”

“I can’t believe this!” Heath yelled in frustration. “When you came up with this stupid idea, I thought it could be kind of fun, I mean, even with the not-smoking shit…getting to fish, and… hang out…”

Zane saw Heath turn slightly red, and he didn’t know if it was from the anger or the thought of what “hanging out” they could do in a tent in the middle of nowhere. 

“But I didn’t think you’d treat me like you were my fucking prison warden!”

“I’m not gonna say I’m sorry for helping you avoid lung cancer,” Zane replied, shrugging. It was hard to keep his cool when Heath was so upset, but he figured one of them had to keep a clear head. “You wanted to quit. I’m gonna make damn sure you do.”

Heath opened his mouth, but after a few seconds he shut it. Zane could almost hear his teeth grinding. He wrapped himself in his blanket and turned towards the window, his back towards Zane.

Zane figured there wasn’t much Heath could say in response to someone wanting to save his life. And he could deal with pissed-off Heath. He had for years.

But when they finally pulled into Buckeye Flat Campground an hour and a half later and Heath’s butt was still facing him, angry sighs fogging up the window, he wasn’t so sure.


	3. Chapter 3

Zane had checked in with the campground manager, found their site, and unloaded half of their belongings before Heath finally got out of the truck.

Zane watched Heath stomp off into the woods, presumably to piss. He grabbed a coffee out of one of the coolers and set it on top. He didn’t say anything when Heath returned, but watched the man take the coffee, down half of it in one gulp, and then sit on the cooler. Heath watched Zane struggle with their tent for about twenty minutes before Zane finally lost it.

“Mind giving me a hand here?” Zane asked, trying to keep the edge out of his voice. “It’s been awhile since I set this up.”

“I’m sleeping in the truck tonight,” Heath replied, his tone as petulant as a fourteen-year-old girl’s. “I didn’t know you were taking me to a place crawling with _bears._ ” He gestured towards a sign near the truck that warned campers to put their food in the metal boxes provided to avoid attracting the large creatures.

“You didn’t know there would be bears in the California wilderness?” Zane asked, getting more pissed by the second. “There’s a fucking bear on the state flag. And it doesn’t matter, because people camp here every fucking day and don’t get mauled. So help me with the goddamn tent.”

“No thanks, warden,” Heath said before standing up and walking down the road back towards the camp entrance.

Zane nearly screamed, but there was a family of four with two young children walking towards them, and the last thing he needed was to be known as the campground maniac.

After another hour he had finally gotten the tent set up and everything stowed in its proper, bear-proofed place. It was almost noon, and his stomach was growling. Heath hadn’t come back yet, and for a minute he was concerned that Heath had actually tried to escape the campground in search of cigarettes.

Then he heard the grumbling.

Heath dropped down onto the cooler after taking out another coffee.

“Have a nice walk?” Zane asked sarcastically. “Got everything all set up for you, princess.”

“I asked every fucking camp site in this place for a cigarette and nobody had one. Stupid fucking health freaks, with their hiking and granola and shit,” Heath complained. “And the store is miles away. Fuck this.”

Zane ignored him and went into the other cooler, grabbing some sandwich supplies. He didn’t have to be hungry while Heath bitched, at least.

He was about to take his first bite when Heath came over and took it out of his hands. “Didn’t even ask me if I wanted one,” Heath said before walking back to the truck, climbing inside, and slamming the door.

Zane looked at the mayonnaise-covered knife resting on the lid next to him, and wondered if he could get away with murder. 

He made another sandwich and pulled out his phone. He didn’t have any service, but he had saved something from one of those smoking cessation websites that he wanted to look at. He pulled it up. “Irritability after 24 hours of smoking cessation,” the timeline read. 

It had been eight hours since Heath’s last cigarette.

Fuck. Out of all the things Heath had to be an over-achiever in.

He read the timeline again. Ten hours in, rough sleeping. One day, irritability. _Right._ Two days, headaches and anxiety. Three days, still sucking but getting better.

Zane finished his sandwich, made another, and glanced up at Heath. He saw Heath quickly turn away when he looked up. Zane smirked. Heath was watching him.

He made another sandwich and walked up to Heath’s door. He tried to open it. It was locked. 

Zane rolled his eyes and held up the sandwich in front of the window. “Still hungry?”

Heath’s internal battle over whether to keep being petty or assuage his hunger played out over his face, but finally hunger won and he opened the door. Zane stepped back. “You’ll have to eat it out here. I’m not room service.”

Heath slammed the car door and grabbed the sandwich out of Zane’s hand. At the same time, Zane reached into his pocket and locked the truck doors with the remote. Heath was too busy stuffing his face to notice.

After opening up a third coffee and giving Zane his thousandth dirty look of the afternoon, Heath went to the truck. 

“Give me the keys. It’s locked.” Heath pulled on the door handle.

“Nah. We’re going on a hike,” Zane replied, cleaning up their lunch.

“I’m not going on a fucking hike. This is my truck, and I want to be in it. Give me the keys.”

“Nope.” Zane put on his hat and took the bug spray out of his backpack. He sprayed himself liberally before motioning to Heath. “Here, let me spray you.”

“Fuck off,” Heath said, pulling again on the handle. 

“Fine.” Zane pulled out a camp map from his pocket. “Stay here. But you’re not getting back in the truck.”

It was a risk, knowing Heath would not think twice about hitch-hiking out of the place to the nearest gas station. The food and coffee had seemed to help a little bit, as he appeared less murderous, but still ready for a fight. Heath opened his mouth to respond when the family of four walked by their camp again.

One of the kids, a little girl who was probably around six or seven, beamed up at Heath. “Hi! We’re going on a hike! Daddy says we might see some snakes!”

“Cool,” Heath said, unable to contain a small grin. The girl’s parents smiled and nodded at them before continuing towards the trailhead.

Heath looked up towards the sky, as if for guidance from some benevolent god. A bug flew into his eye.

“Give me some of that fucking spray,” Heath spat, following the family towards the trailhead. Zane grinned.


	4. Chapter 4

Zane let Heath set the pace. At first it was fast and furious, as Heath was still pissed off about the truck, but after tripping over a branch and nearly face-planting, he was a bit slower. Now, Heath seemed to be in a zen-like state, moving forward up the trail without speaking, sighing, or grumbling. It was a nice change from the morning.

It smelled good in the woods, and Zane was thoroughly enjoying seeing something besides pavement and strip malls. LA had its nice spots, but this was _nature_ nature. Not a couple of palm trees and manicured grass.

A mile in, they passed the family of four looking up at a tree. Zane sort of wanted to know what they were looking at, but if he stopped, Heath would lose him in a second. Fuck, he was going pretty fast for a guy who just stopped smoking a pack-a-day.

At the end of mile two they reached a “creek”, which unlike the creeks they knew in Florida, was cold, fast, and didn’t look too great for fishing or swimming. In fact, there was even a sign that said NO SWIMMING. Too bad.

Heath stopped, breathing heavily. Zane flopped down on the edge of the trail and pulled two bottles of water out of his pack, offering one to Heath.

They stayed there for a long time, not speaking, just listening. Heath pulled out his phone and starting taking photos of the creek, the trees. Zane just watched. 

When the family of four finally caught up to them, pausing to ooh and aah at the creek, Zane looked at his Fitbit. He had taken a lot of jeering from the guys for that particular purchase, but now that he was working out more, it was handy as fuck. It had the time and everything.

“We better head back,” Zane said, his voice sounding strange after not speaking for hours. “We want to get to camp way before dark so we can set up the fire pit. And it’s a lot of uphill this direction.”

He expected some snide remark from Heath about him not only being a prison warden but a drill sergeant too, but Heath only nodded.

The little girl from the camp site ran up to Heath, her fist clutched. “Look what I found!” She opened her fist, revealing a rock flecked with tiny gold flakes. “Pretty cool, huh?”

She beamed up at Heath, and the man smiled back. “Very cool. Don’t lose it.”

“I won’t!” she assured him before running back to her parents.

Zane stood, brushing off his shorts. Heath passed him and they resumed their hike, Heath still in the front, but maybe a bit slower this time.

Half a mile from the creek, Heath stopped in the middle of the trail. “What’s up?” Zane asked, catching up to him. “You alright?”

Heath looked him in the eye for the first time that day and stepped towards him. He opened his mouth to say something, but seemed to change his mind at the last minute. Heath pulled out his phone.

“Before my phone dies, we should vlog something,” Heath said. “I’m sure the viewers would love to see me hot and sweaty in nature.”

“Who wouldn’t?” Zane replied, grinning.

Heath smiled for the first time since- fuck, yesterday?- and hit record. “Hi ya’ll…”

Zane pulled a face for the camera and jogged ahead. Things were getting better.

Heath’s phone died a quarter of a mile from the camp, and they walked back side by side in good spirits. Heath hadn’t apologized for being a total dick, but Zane had a sneaking suspicion that there was more dickishness to come and he was waiting to beg for forgiveness at the end.

“Fuck, I want a cigarette,” Heath groaned, collapsing into one of the camp chairs.

“Yeah, nothing like sucking in some nice black tar and nicotine after breathing in the clean, fresh air of a millennia-old forest,” Zane dead-panned, setting his backpack down and rolling out his shoulders.

“Fuck you,” Heath said without any heat. “Can I have a beer at least, _Mom_?”

“No,” Zane said, shaking his head. “Not until we fix up the fire pit. Last thing I need is for you to stumble into the woods drunk looking for firewood and get mauled by a coyote.”

“That would be good clickbait,” Heath mused, before getting Zane’s damp balled-up t-shirt in his face.

“C’mon. We need wood. We’re allowed to pick up what we find,” Zane said, heading towards the patch of woods near their site.

Heath watched Zane- well, Zane’s back, to be more specific- as Zane continued to roll out his shoulders, his deltoids moving beneath his skin, sprinkled with sweat. He stared until Zane turned around. “You coming?”

Heath shook his head and followed.

It took much longer than necessary to start the fire due to Heath’s whining, but eventually they had a roaring fire, had polished off two beers and three hot dogs each, and were contemplating make s’mores. It was starting to get dark, and it seemed the family of four had already started in on their own s’mores making.

“Mom, can we have those guys over for s’mores?” the little girl yelled loudly, pointing in Zane and Heath’s direction.

“Olivia, don’t yell,” her mother chided, looking up at Zane and Heath and rolling her eyes. 

“Seems like she’s taking a liking to you two,” the woman called over with a smile. “Care to join us?”

“Yeah, care to join us?” Olivia repeated, holding up a stick with an unroasted marshmallow impaled on the top.

“Might be a good distraction,” Zane said lowly into Heath’s ear, nodding towards Heath’s jittery leg which hadn’t stopped bouncing since they sat for dinner. 

Heath elbowed Zane and stood up. “How could I turn down an invitation from such a charming young lady?”

“What about him?” Olivia asked, pointing at Zane.

“I have to go take a shower, because I really smell,” Zane said in mock seriousness.

Olivia giggled. “My brother smells all the time. I don’t mind.”

“Olivia!”

As they parted ways, Heath called towards Zane. “Leave the truck keys?”

“Not on your life,” Zane called back, grabbing his shower bag from his stuff and heading towards the bathrooms.

Two hours later, both Heath and Zane were freshly showered, full of s’mores and beer (Olivia’s dad had stocked _up_ ) and by their own fire pit. 

“I’m fucking beat,” Zane groaned.

“It’s only 9:00,” Heath scoffed. “Old man.”

“I’ve been up since 4 in the fuckin’ morning,” Zane shot back, downing the last of his beer. “Put out the fire, I’m going to piss.”

“But it’s warm,” Heath whined. 

“Only you can prevent forest fires,” Zane responded before heading off to the woods.

To Zane’s surprise, the fire was almost out when he came back- just a few burning embers that Heath was throwing dirt on.

They stood awkwardly in the dark. 

“I’m not tired,” Heath said, at the same time Zane asked, “are you still going to sleep in the truck?”

“My phone is dead, and I can’t even play Candy Crush,” Heath complained, ignoring Zane’s question. 

“You’ll live,” Zane said, heading towards the tent. He crawled in.

“Hey, what if we get eaten by a bear? How will we call for help with no cell phones?”

“There’s an emergency phone in the camp office,” Zane replied. “And a charging station. We can use it in the morning. And anyways, _my_ phone isn’t dead.”

“Can I play with it?” Heath asked, his eyes wide. Zane _really_ wished Heath was talking about something other than his phone.

“Sure, but you have to stay in the tent.”

“No I don’t.”

“You literally do- I gave the truck keys to Olivia’s dad.”

“You _what_?”

Zane slid into his sleeping bag. “Insurance. You’re jittery like a crackhead. I trust you not to kill me in my sleep, but I don’t trust you not to take the truck and burglarize a convenience store.”

“You can’t just give my truck keys to a complete stranger!”

“Heath, they drive a fucking _Range Rover_ \- I don’t think they want anything to do with your Toyota.”

“Hey! My truck is sexy as fuck and you better shut your mouth.” Zane did indeed shut his mouth, and after throwing Heath his phone and setting up the old-school alarm for the morning, he shut his eyes, too. 

Sighing in defeat, Heath zipped up the tent and got into the other sleeping bag. He cursed when he realized that he couldn’t play Candy Crush without Internet. He cursed when the only game he could play was some 90’s looking version of Solitaire. He cursed when Zane started snoring. His head hurt. And he had to pee.

Fuck camping.


	5. Chapter 5

_For some reason, they were in the old house, by the pool. No one else was home- no Toddy, no Scotty, no Jason- no one._

_It was ten pm, but it was August in LA and it was hot as balls. The ice cold Coronas had helped, but they had also made Zane restless, itching to do...he didn’t know what._

_Heath was laid out on his stomach on a lounger, laughing at something stupid on his phone. All he had on was a pair of ragged basketball shorts, same as Zane. The curve of his ass was oddly mesmerizing. Dumb Coronas._

_Feeling too jittery to sit, Zane stood and glanced at the pool. He thought about his bathing suit, still nasty from their recent trip to the beach. He glanced at Heath. A rush of adrenaline._

_He tugged off his shorts and threw them at Heath’s head before jumping into the pool with a victorious roar._

_When he surfaced, Heath was standing by the edge of the pool with his shorts. “What the fuck?”_

_Zane feigned ignorance. “What?”_

_“I hope you washed your dick before you put it all in our pool water,” Heath said, tossing the shorts onto the ground. Zane splashed water in his direction._

_“Watch my phone, asshole!” Heath yelled, moving his lounger far from the edge of the pool as possible. Zane grabbed a sopping wet toy ball floating by him and threw it soundly in the back of Heath’s head._

_“Okay, now I’m going to kick your ass,” Heath warned, hopping out of his shorts and jumping into the water. He grabbed another toy ball and threw it at Zane, who dove under the water to avoid it. Heath scrambled for another weapon, barely grasping onto a Frisbee before he was pulled underwater._

_Zane had an iron grip on hips. When he tried to wriggle away, Zane wrapped his arm around his torso and pulled him deeper into the water. After ten seconds, Heath beat three times on Zane’s arm, signaling surrender._

_They surfaced, and Heath took a large gulp of air. “Fuck, ten seconds? You gotta quit those cigs man,” Zane said, breathing heavily._

_“Fuck- you-,” Heath panted. “You took me by surprise. I wasn’t ready, dickhead.”_

_“Oh, yeah? Wanna go again?” Zane challenged with an evil grin.  
Heath opened his mouth to respond, before snapping it shut. His eyes flicked to the house, and then back to Zane, up and down, lingering on his shoulders, his pecs, his lips. Zane felt arousal pool in his gut. Fuck, was his breathing heavy? From a **look**? Had he already lost?_

_Heath inched forward towards Zane, and Zane moved back on instinct, fixated on Heath’s predatory look. When Zane’s back hit the edge of the pool, Heath smirked._

_“I have a new challenge,” Heath said, his voice low. He placed both palms on Zane’s pectorals before sliding them up to hang around Zane’s neck. Zane’s hands automatically went to Heath’s hips, pulling him closer so they were chest to chest._

_“Do you want to know what the challenge is?” Heath asked, his eyebrow cocked._

_“Yeah,” Zane replied, proud of himself for managing to respond when something large and warm was rubbing against his dick._

_“The first one to make a noise, loses.”_

_Zane almost lost immediately as Heath latched onto his neck, Heath’s breath causing goosebumps to pop up on his arms. He managed to stifle a groan, even as Heath put a knee between his legs and put some lovely pressure on his cock and balls._

_He let Heath kiss him, let him suck on his tongue, let him gyrate against him. This he could handle. But when Heath’s hand slid down his waist and towards his dick, that’s when he had to go into defense. Because when the person you were sort of really, really into put their hand on your dick, you were bound to make some noise._

_Zane grabbed Heath’s wrist and pulled his arm out of the water, wrapping it and Heath’s other arm around his own neck before spinning Heath so that his back was pressed against the pool’s edge. Heath nearly gasped at the rapid change of position, but pressed his lips together tight._

_This wasn’t the first time they had kissed, or the second, but this was all still pretty new. Zane was a chicken shit when it came to initiating stuff- especially with Heath- put when he was in it, he was in it._

_When he was sure Heath was wrapped around his neck, he let his hands drift down Heath’s sides to his waist. To his surprise, Heath wasn’t trying to change their position again. Zane tested his luck. He breathed softly on the damp skin behind Heath’s ear and felt him shiver. He suckled on an ear lobe before chasing a drop of sweat with his tongue down Heath’s neck, stopping to suck and bite on a few choice places that he knew Heath liked._

_He felt Heath start to shift, so he pressed him more firmly against the pool’s edge. They were both hard as fuck, and every tiny movement made their cocks slide together. Zane itched to take both of them in his hand, but was determined to make Heath lose this challenge without touching his dick._

_Worried about scraping all of the skin off Heath’s back against the concrete pool- and desperately wanting some more freedom of movement- Zane put three months of work-outs to the test and gripped under Heath’s ass, hoisting him up so he was sitting on the edge of the pool. Zane hopped out next to him and stood up, walking briskly to the house. He turned and gave Heath a look as if to say, “You coming?”_

_To his amazement, Heath scrambled after him, his dick bobbing between his legs as he rushed to follow._

_Zane threw a towel down onto his bed before hopping on and sitting up against the headboard. This was a risky strategy, since this position gave Heath more control than he would like, but he hoped it would pay off._

_He beckoned Heath towards him, pulling him on top of him and positioning his legs so they were straddling his thighs. Heath immediately went for his lips, and Zane let him suck on his tongue, lick all of the remaining Corona out of his mouth. When they parted, Heath was panting, his pupils blown out. Good._

_Zane licked a path from Heath’s collarbone, pausing to suck on a pink, pierced nipple. Heath almost lost it there, but bit his lip just in time. Heath’s final death blow came when Zane broke another kiss to give Heath’s ass a hearty smack._

_“Zane!”_

“ZANE!” Zane’s eyes shot open. Something was punching him in the arm, and something was blaring right next to his ear.

“The fuckin’ alarm has been going off FOREVER, wake up you piece of shit!”

How Zane managed to find the alarm and turn it off in his semi-conscious state, he’d never know. When he could see, he looked at the clock. 6am. Fuck his life.

“Ugh,” Heath moaned. “My head is killing me.”

Zane sat up. He felt okay, so it must be the withdrawals, not a hang-over. He looked at the clock again. Why the fuck was he up this early?

Oh, yeah. To get the truck keys from Mr. Olivia’s Dad before they left on their morning hike. Fuckin hippies.

Zane groaned and tried to slide out of his sleeping bag, when the friction on his dick made him pause. He grabbed his dick. Fuck, he was still hard. Fuck you, naked wet Heath, and fuck you, alarm clock.

He finally got out of his sleeping bag and unzipped the tent, stepping out into the morning. 

Fuck, it was cold. 

He found his hoodie and threw it on along with his boots, and went off into the woods, his dick already retreating into itself at the cold. He couldn’t believe he didn’t piss on himself.

By the time he got back, he was presentable. Mr. Olivia’s Dad was the only one up at their camp, cooking bacon, by the smell of things.

The older man smiled at Zane as he approached. “Looks like we didn’t have any fugitives run off in the night.”

Zane glanced towards the truck. “Nope. We just have one non-fugitive in a tent with one hell of a withdrawal headache.”

The man chuckled. “Been there. Quitting sucks. Would have handed off my keys too if I’d been that guy back in the day.” The man pulled the truck keys out of his pocket and tossed them to Zane.

“You bring any Advil?”

Zane thought of his Wal-Mart supply haul, and the contents of the First Aid kit they had stolen from Todd.

“Shit, no,” Zane admitted. How could he have forgotten?

The man went into the bigger of the two tents before coming out with a black bag. He dug around in it for a bit before pulling out a bottle.

“Here. It’s about half-full, but should get him through the next day and a half or so.” The man offered the bottle to Zane.

“Ah, no, I couldn’t-“ Zane began.

“It’s no problem. We’re leaving tomorrow, anyways, and I think we have another half a bottle in the Range Rover somewhere. Take it. He needs it more than we do, trust me on that.”

Zane took the bottle. “Thanks. We owe you.”

Olivia’s dad shrugged it off. “No worries. You want some bacon?”

“Zane?” Zane turned to see Heath’s head poking out of the tent. 

“Um, I better get back,” Zane replied, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “Smells great, though.”

Olivia’s dad smiled knowingly at Zane. “Take good care of him, now.”

Zane nodded awkwardly before heading back to the camp. He fished out a bottle of water from the cooler and toed off his boots before crawling back in the tent.

“You read my fucking mind,” Heath gasped, downing half the bottle of water in one gulp. Zane tossed him the Advil. “Compliments of Mr. Olivia’s Dad.”

“Oh, fuck yeah,” Heath moaned, unscrewing the cap and popping an unspecified number of pills into his mouth.

“Fuck, slow down man.”

“I know my limits,” Heath replied, finishing off his water and tossing the bottle to the side. He wiggled back into his sleeping back, laying back before moaning and beginning to rub his temples.

“Fuck me up, Advil,” Heath sighed. “Please, fuck me up.”

Well, if this was any indication of how today was going to be, they were going to need a lot more in-tent entertainment. Zane grabbed his phone from where it was tossed between the sleeping bags. Dead.

“I’m going to go charge our phones, maybe go get some more meds to replace the one Mr. Olivia’s Dad gave us. Where’s your phone?”

Heath grumbled and reached into his jeans in the corner of the tent, managing to fish out his iPhone, before burrowing deeper into his sleeping bag.

“Alright, well...” Zane began before giving up and leaving Heath to wallow in misery. 

He was halfway to the truck when he heard Heath moan in pain. He shook his head. “Some vacation.”


	6. Chapter 6

Heath opened his eyes and immediately regretted it.

His head was pounding. His mouth tasted awful. And he was alone.  
He took some more Advil, downed the last half his water, and squinted to make out the time on Zane’s old-person alarm clock. 1:00pm. Fuck.

He thought that he should probably leave the tent, go find Zane. The thought of sitting up was unbearable. He tried to roll over to his side, but it made his head hurt more. 

His knee hurt.

He had tried to escape last night. After his one thousandth game of Solitaire, the need for a cigarette was so strong he would have sucked a million dicks for one. Two million, even.

He was as quiet as a mouse and stealthy as a ninja as he slipped out of his sleeping bag and crawled to the tent entrance, but Zane was almost in a coma, snoring so loudly that he wondered if the guys could hear him back in LA. He was less careful then. And then he tripped leaving the tent, his knee landing on a nice big rock. He managed not to curse, but had a hard time standing up. It was really fucking dark. He managed to grab on to the flashlight Zane had left next to the tent in case they needed to piss in the night.

He walked slowly and paused at the next camp site over. He briefly, maniacally, thought about trying to find his keys in Mr. Olivia’s Dad’s tent. He wondered if Zane had lied about that. But for some reason, he knew Zane wasn’t bluffing on this one. That kid really was trying his damnedest to help.

The fluttery feelings of fond in Heath’s stomach turned to dread when he heard a coyote howl off in the distance. 

Screwing up his courage, he walked towards the entrance. Only one campsite showed any signs of activity, a group of three couples in their thirties who were out by the fire. They were chatting softly and drinking something non-alcoholic, so Heath kept walking.

He reached the entrance to the campground and stood there in the dark. He glanced at the camp office. It was dark. He thought wildly about breaking in and scavenging for cigarettes. He thought about hitching a ride to the nearest supply stop. He thought about walking to the nearest supply stop. He realized he hadn’t brought the campground map. His phone was dead. Zane’s phone was not quite dead, but he had left that too.

Between the wild animals and the psychos, all of his options seemed a bit risky. 

He was insane for a cigarette. The smells of campfire smoke made it worse. He knew it would get better, it would, although he also knew that he would probably always want a cigarette, at least a little bit, for the rest of his life.

His whole body thrummed. He thought about waking up Zane. He thought about turning off Zane’s alarm clock, and meeting Mr. Olivia’s Dad first. Grabbing the truck keys, running off for a bit. Would Mr. Olivia’s Dad even give him the keys?

He thought about how pissed Zane would be. But not the usual kind of pissed. The disappointed, betrayed pissed that would destroy whatever sort of budding thing they had between them.

Heath accepted that Zane was right. His willpower did suck. It was almost nonexistent. But he did have some sort of conscience, and some sort of feelings. Unfortunately.

He turned and walked back towards the camp site. His head was starting to hurt more. He tried to focus on something pleasant.

He thought about Zane. What had changed between them. There had been no scenes, no dramatic mutual confessions. They had been on the hiking trail, had stopped for a break. There had been crackling energy between them for days, ever since Zane had told Andrea he wasn’t interested. Wouldn’t say why, just that he wasn’t feeling it.

They had vlogged on their hike and had a blast. Heath was a bit embarrassed how breathless he was, and the nagging part of his brain that told him to quit the fucking cigs was growing bigger.

They sat and took a break, taking in the view of the city. It was dusk and lights started to twinkle on below them. A group of teenagers walked past, giggling, pushing each other.

Heath took a picture of the view, thinking he’d post to Instagram later. He took a picture of Zane’s profile, dark with shadows. Zane elbowed him.

Heath thought about smoking a cigarette then. He decided not to. His arm brushed Zane’s. He didn’t feel nervous, even though it felt like everything he had been feeling was coming to a head. He inhaled deeply.

“Mm?” Zane murmured, turning to him. Heath shrugged. Zane pulled a face. And Heath kissed Zane.

Zane didn’t resist. He didn’t rip himself away, stand up and wipe his mouth and spit, start yelling profanities. It happened, and then it was done. And it wasn’t weird.

Okay, it was a little weird. But then Zane kissed _him_ , and it went away.

They didn’t talk about it. Zane went to Florida a few days later, and he still texted Heath, same as always. Heath kissed him when he picked him up from the airport, in the truck, right before they left for home. Zane let him- more than let him. Heath guessed Zane hadn’t changed his mind about it, even if they hadn’t specifically defined what _it_ was.

Heath’s mind replayed all the subsequent kisses over the following two months. Despite he and Zane being pretty hot-blooded people, they had never done more than make out when they could steal a few moments. He had never realized how often people were around them- their roommates, friends, friends of friends. How late they stayed up. How hard it was to sneak off somewhere. It was easier bringing a girl home to full on hook up (something they had been mercilessly teased about _not_ doing these last few months) than to even just kiss Zane without anyone knowing.

Because for now, he didn’t want anyone to know. Just him and Zane.

When he arrived back at camp, Heath realized he hadn’t thought about cigarettes the entire walk back. 

Now, laying like a slug in his sleeping bag in the middle of the afternoon, replaying the night over in his mind, Heath felt sort of proud of himself. It was ruined a bit by the headache, nausea, and need to piss, but it was there.

He left the tent to relieve himself. Zane wasn't there, but the truck was, so he must be off somewhere around the campground, not being lazy. Not feeling miserable. Heath wanted to be not miserable with him.


	7. Chapter 7

Zane cringed as he handed over a $20 bill. A small bottle of Advil and a new toothbrush (he had dropped his in the mud outside the shower area) would cost him almost the whole thing. Stupid supply store in the middle of nowhere.

Back at camp, he stopped by the office and spent an hour screwing around, charging their phones. There was no WiFi in the office, and he didn't have any service, so he read the brochures out on the ratty folding table (mostly about avoiding bears), looked at the maps on the walls, thought about breakfast.

When he got back to camp, Olivia and her family were finishing up breakfast. She waved him over.

"Hi!" she said brightly. Her eyes flicked to the truck. "Where did you go?"

"Oh, just to pick up some things for the camp," Zane replied with a smile. He handed the bottle of Advil to Olivia's dad. "Your dad gave us some medicine, so we had to replace it."

"This must have cost a fortune," the man said, shaking his head. "You didn't need to do that."

"Well, I still have both arms and legs, so it wasn't too bad," Zane grinned, waving him off.

"Are you sick?" Olivia asked, crinkling up her nose.

"No, but my friend Heath isn't feeling too great right now," Zane answered, nodding towards the tent. "He probably won't do too much today."

"Oh," Olivia said, nodding. "That stinks. I got sick on a camping trip once. I threw up in the tent. We had to wash everything."

Olivia's mom shook her head. "We really have to have a talk about over-sharing."

Zane's stomach grumbled. "I better get some breakfast," he said.

Olivia's dad motioned towards the small table set up by the fire. "We have left-overs. Have at it. Otherwise we'll have to throw it out. There's coffee, too."

Zane thought about declining, but there were eggs, bacon, and toast. All he had were Pop-Tarts.

While he ate, Olivia sat with him and chatted about her trip so far. Her mom and dad (who he finally remembered were called Tom and Marissa) started packing the Range Rover. Her brother, Dylan, who hadn't spoken two words to Zane the past two days, attempted to help his parents pack, but ultimately ended up with them by the fire.

"We saw the huge trees," Olivia gushed. "It was so awesome. They were about a billion feet tall."

"They weren't a billion feet tall," Dylan said, rolling his eyes. The kid appeared to be about nine or ten, and was in that phase where his little sister was nothing more than a splinter in his ass.

"Okay, well, they were _really_ tall. I think it would be cool to go to the top of one and see everything!"

"I hope Heath and I make it to see the sequoias before we leave," Zane said, his eyes flicking to the tent. He probably should go check on him.

"Is he your best friend?" Olivia asked. "My best friend was going to come with us, but her grandma died so she couldn't come."

"Over-share," Dylan said blandly.

"That's too bad. Yeah...he's my best friend," Zane said. Not that Zane was acting like one right now. Eating eggs and bacon while Heath was dying in the tent.

Zane picked up his empty plates. "Got any hot water going? I'll wash the dishes for you," Zane offered.

Marissa shook her head. "No need. We'll pack 'em dirty, wash 'em at home." Zane looked around and realized the fire was out, and their whole camp was basically packed up.

"Well, thanks for breakfast. I really appreciate it."

"Our pleasure," Tom answered. Zane's eyes flicked to his tent for the millionth time. 

"Why don't you go check on Heath?" Tom suggested with a small smile. "If he's still out for the count, you should come on a hike with us. We always go on one last one before we head home."

"I don't want to go home," Olivia pouted.

"I do," Dylan piped up, and Marissa rolled her eyes.

"I don't want to intrude on your family time," Zane said, although hiking with Olivia sounded kind of hilarious. This kid was a trip.

"We've been here a week...we've had _plenty_ of family time," Marissa assured him wryly.

Zane crawled into their tent. Heath was snoring, spread eagle on his stomach on top of the sleeping bag. He looked adorable.

He still had water, and Advil, so Zane figured there wasn't much else he could do. Heath could crawl out for a Pop-Tart later if he wanted.

He sighed. He had wanted to go camping _with_ Heath, not... _near_ Heath. Fuck.

***********

Heath did, in fact, crawl out for a Pop Tart later.

Or ten, by the looks of it.

It was lunch time, and Zane had finally returned to camp after his hike with Olivia and her family. After some small talk had led to Zane revealing what he did for a living, Olivia was insistent that she be in the next vlog. Zane figured he'd humor her by getting some footage.

Little did he know that she would be fucking hilarious. He couldn't wait to show Heath.

After seeing off Olivia and her family (Olivia's teary face waved to him out of the back of the Range Rover), he unzipped their tent.

This time Heath was on his back. He was stripped down to his underwear on top of the sleeping bag, one arm thrown over his eyes, and one testicle hanging out of his Hanes. Discarded Pop-Tart wrappers were strewn on either side of him, and he had crumbs on his belly. 

Zane did the only thing he could do.

He took a picture. The desire to text it to their entire friend group was enormous. Maybe even post it to Twitter. But he was a good friend. Sort of.

He crawled closer, grabbing the wrappers and stuffing them in their tent trash bag. He knelt next to Heath, who was still snoring. He leaned over so his face was inches away from the sleeping man's. Heath was starting to smell a little, and there were pieces of Pop-Tart frosting in his beard. He didn't care.

What happened next was one of those rare moments in life where it seems you have been temporarily transported to the set of a sitcom.

Zane pressed forward, his lips brushing Heath's. He was thrumming with energy after his hike, and he wanted Heath to wake the fuck up.

Then, a truck horn blared.

Heath's eyes shot open and he jerked upwards, his forehead smacking into Zane's. 

"Fuck!" Zane fell backwards, his hand pressed to his forehead. Heath looked around in a daze.

"Wha the fuck jus happen?"

Car doors slammed. People were laughing and barking orders at each other. It sounded a like a big group of guys and girls, probably about their age.

"Sounds like we have new neighbors," Zane groaned, sitting up.

Heath rubbed his face. "Where were you?"

"On a hike with Olivia and her family," Zane replied. "Olivia's a natural vlogger. I have to show you this footage."

Heath fell backwards. "I'm tired."

"Too fuckin bad. I didn't come here to do shit by myself."

Heath turned so his ass was facing Zane and harrumphed.

Zane sighed. He sat for a few moments, debating what to do. He could sit here and stare at the lovely curve of Heath's ass all afternoon, or he could play bad cop.

"Hey Brittany, grab my cigarettes out of the truck!" a male voice called out from the camp next to them.

Fuck.

A few seconds passed. Heath casually rolled over. "Maybe you're right... I should get up," Heath said innocently. "Make me a sandwich."

Zane raised an eyebrow. "Fine. But stay in here. You stink." 

"Fuck you bitch," Heath shot back, feeling around for his shorts and t-shirt. 

Ten minutes later Heath was sitting in a camp chair with a coffee, his eyes glued to the camp next to them. It looked like there were about eight people, four guys and four girls. 

Some of the group had waved at them as they walked past on their way to unload something from their truck, but they hadn't come over. Zane hoped they wouldn't. Heath's eyes flicked from one good-looking, rugged outdoorsy person to the next, fixated on their hands and pockets. 

"Stop staring at them, you fucking weirdo," Zane chastised, coming over and blocking Heath's line of sight. He handed Heath a sandwich. "Eat. Then shower. Then we're going to see the sequoias."

"There are sequoias everywhere around here," Heath replied snottily. "I want to stay here."

"We're fucking going, Heath. I drove here, so I am entitled to get my basic bitch Instagram pic in the place where everyone else gets theirs. Start eating."

Heath flipped him off but took a bite.

Besides actually wanting that Instagram pic, Zane wanted to get Heath as far away from their neighbors as possible. And not just because he knew one of them had cigarettes. 

When Heath was attracted to someone, he'd give them this _look_. And right now, he was giving a tall, busty redhead the look.

Sure, Zane had noticed the tall busty redhead. Who wouldn't have? But he didn't give her a fucking _look_. A cursory glance at her tits, then back to his sandwich. 

Not Heath.

Zane was getting aggravated. Salty, even. He understood the guy was detoxing, but Jesus. Zane had spent so much time planning and driving and caring for this asshole. Zane hadn't expected anything in return. Except, maybe, you know, _companionship_ and a general show of goodwill. He didn't think that was unreasonable. 

They had made it through lunch and their showers, and were sitting in their truck about to leave. Heath was deciding what music to play. Zane couldn't believe they had made it this long without having to encounter the people next to them. He started the truck.

And then the redhead came over.

"Hey! Wait a second," she called, jogging over to the driver's side window. Cue Zane's internal screaming.

He opened the window. "Hey," he said carefully. Heath leaned over so he was pressed against Zane's side. Zane could almost feel the drool starting to pour out of Heath's mouth.

"I'm Brittany," she said brightly, extending her hand.

"Zane."

"And I'm Heath!" He leaned over Zane's lap and shook Brittany's hand before Zane had a chance to move.

"So, we're gonna have a little celebration tonight to kick off our camping trip. Beer, hot dogs and burgers, s'mores...and more beer," she said giggling. "You guys should come over. Like, 7 or 8 maybe?" Brittany smiled, focusing all of her attention on Heath. Zane didn't know if she was in to him, or if she could somehow sense Zane's animosity, like it was cologne or something.

Heath opened his mouth to respond, but Zane cut him off. "We're going out for a bit now, but maybe we'll stop by if we're back in time. Thanks for inviting us."

"Okay, great," Brittany said, her smile faltering. "Well, see you later I guess."

"See ya."

Zane closed his window. He was almost out of the campsite before Heath spoke.

"Was it really necessary for you to be such a raging asshole?"

"I was polite," Zane shot back.

"Yeah, right. You got a thing against hot girls now?"

Zane gripped the steering wheel tighter. Obviously he didn't. They had hot girls around them all the time- it was a perk of being friends with famous people, like David, and insanely attractive people, like Todd. And Heath flirted with those hot girls all the time, and usually, it didn't bother Zane. 

Heath hadn't slept around after they had started...whatever this was, and neither had Zane. They hadn't talked about it, but Zane had taken their mutual abstinence to be a sort of unspoken agreement between them that whatever this was, it was exclusive. A little harmless flirting wouldn't change that.

But this was different. Heath was not in his right mind, and Brittany, honestly, was the embodiment of Heath's definition of a dream girl. Throw in some beer, and probably weed, by the looks of the group, and whatever agreement Zane thought they had would vanish into thin air.

"Right now I have a thing against hot girls who have friends who smoke," Zane replied, gritting his teeth. "That's a lot of _temptation_ , Heath." 

The word hung in the air between them. 

It was telling that Heath didn't try to defend himself. 

Zane knew that Heath had snuck out last night. He had woken up needing to piss, and the spot next to him was empty. Zane hadn't confronted him about it. But now, he wondered how much Heath actually wanted to quit. Wanted to have...whatever they had.

It hadn't been hard for Zane to stop seeing girls. He had been done after Heath kissed him the first time. On the Zane love life scale, the one side that had been harboring feelings for Heath and the other side being...everyone else, that kiss had tipped it. The last few months had tipped it even more. It would hurt like hell for things to end now, before they even really began.

They drove the rest of the way in silence.


End file.
